Miss Elizabeth Swann was in a foul mood.
She was currently confined to a cramped storage locker adjacent to the Captain's Cabin. Although Hugo had kept his word about not forcing her to share quarters with the "stinking" crew, this small space was hardly a sanctuary. The air was thick with the scent of dried cod, pine tar, and the lingering salt of the sea. What she found most intolerable, however, was the memory of the task she had just completed: she had actually been forced to scrub that velvet-padded toilet.
Every time she thought of her hands, hands meant for embroidery and fans gripping a coarse brush, she trembled with a cold, white-hot fury. She made a silent vow: when Commodore Norrington finally caught this black-hulled phantom, she would personally witness the hanging of the man named Hugo.
Her dark reverie was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door. It swung open to reveal the weathered face of Gibbs, his single eye peering in with a look that was almost apologetic.
"Miss Swann, the Commodore requests your presence," Gibbs said, his tone as polite as a pirate's could manage.
"And what does that ruffian want now?" Elizabeth snapped, rising with as much dignity as her disheveled state allowed.
"I wouldn't know, Miss," Gibbs said, scratching his beard. "But I'd advise cooperation. The Commodore's mind is... well, it's a focused thing. Best not to test the limits of his patience."
Elizabeth followed him into the Great Cabin. The rowdy feast had concluded; the table was cleared of bones, though the scent of roasted meat still hung in the air, mocking Hugo's lost sense of taste. Hugo sat behind his heavy mahogany desk, hunched over a piece of parchment, the rhythmic scratching of his quill the only sound in the room.
"Sit, Miss Swann," Hugo said, not looking up.
Elizabeth stared at the chair across from him, a fine piece of craftsmanship and remained standing. "I have nothing to say to a kidnapper."
"Is that so?" Hugo finally lifted his head. He blew on the ink to dry it before sliding the parchment across the desk. "I was actually hoping for a bit of editorial advice. Since you are well-versed in the diplomatic standards of Port Royal, I wanted to ensure the tone of this ransom note was sufficiently... urgent."
"Ransom note?" Elizabeth whispered, her heart skipping a beat. She snatched the paper, her eyes scanning the elegant, precise script.
To the Honorable Weatherby Swann, Governor of Port Royal:
Your daughter, Elizabeth, is currently an 'honored guest' aboard my flagship. She is doing well—contributing to the maintenance of our vessel and adjusting to a diet of salted fish. You will be pleased to know she is in the company of men who recognize her value.
To ensure her safe return, I require a modest ticket home: ten thousand gold coins. I accept Spanish doubloons, British sovereigns, or French louis; I am not particular about the crown, only the purity of the gold. I have no interest in silver or jewels; they are cumbersome and lack the specific utility I require.
Deliver the sum to my messenger within three days. If I see a Royal Navy sail on the horizon before the gold is counted, Miss Swann's stay with us will become permanent. I trust you value your daughter more than the King's treasury.
At the bottom of the page was the silver albatross clutching a compass.
Elizabeth's hands shook as she read. "Ten thousand gold coins? You're a lunatic! You aren't just robbing my father; you're bankrupting the colony! He can't possibly raise that much in three days."
Hugo leaned back, his expression entirely detached. "Whether he can or cannot is a matter for the Governor to solve. I believe his affection for his only child is a powerful motivator. Besides, ten thousand gold coins is a fair price for the technological advancements I intend to build with them."
"He won't compromise with a pirate!" Elizabeth crumpled the letter into a ball. "Norrington will find you. He will blow this ship to splinters!"
"We shall see," Hugo said with a faint, chilling smile. He turned his head toward the door. "Captain Barbossa! Enter."
The door creaked open, and the man Elizabeth knew as Barbossa walked in. He looked haggard, his skin a sallow grey in the lamplight. He moved with a twitchy, nervous energy, his eyes darting toward Hugo with a mixture of fear and profound resentment.
"Commodore," Barbossa rasped, his voice sounding like dry leaves. "You called for me?"
"Captain, I have an errand for you," Hugo said, gesturing toward the crumpled ball of paper. "Take the Sea Serpent and deliver this to Governor Swann. Ensure it reaches his hands personally."
Barbossa blanched. "Me? Go back to Port Royal? That's a death sentence! I'm a wanted man! The Navy will have me in irons before I clear the outer reefs!"
"You won't be alone," Hugo said, his tone dangerously kind. "I'll have Captain Jack Sparrow accompany you. He's an... old acquaintance of the Port Royal authorities. Between your steel and his luck, I'm sure you'll manage."
"Jack?" Barbossa's face twisted in disgust. "I'd rather walk the plank into a nest of krakens than go anywhere with that man!"
"Oh? Is your pride more important than your health, Hector?" Hugo's gaze turned ice-cold. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Aztec coin, tossing it into the air and catching it with a sharp clack. "Lest you forget, I am the only one who can navigate the path to breaking your little problem. You serve me, or you serve the curse."
Barbossa stared at the coin as if it were a venomous snake. His shoulders slumped, the fire in his eyes dying out. "Fine... I'll go. But if Sparrow gets me hanged, I'll find you in the Locker."
"Good lad," Hugo nodded. He smoothed the letter and handed it over. "Deliver it, Captain. And return quickly. We have work to do."
As Barbossa exited, looking like a man marching to his own execution, Elizabeth watched the exchange in stunned silence. She couldn't wrap her head around the power dynamic. This young man, this Hugo, commanded a veteran pirate captain with nothing but a single coin and a few words.
Hugo turned back to her, his expression returning to that of a polite, albeit predatory, host. "Now, Miss Swann. We must address your current living conditions. I've decided to offer you a promotion."
"A promotion?" she asked warily.
"The storage room is hardly suitable for a lady. I'm prepared to move you into the cabin next to mine. It has a proper bed, a copper tub for hot baths, and your meals will be served from my own table, fresh meat, fruit, and wine."
Elizabeth's heart skipped. The thought of a real bed and a bath was almost overwhelming. "And the price? I know pirates don't give charity."
Hugo stood up and walked around the desk, stopping just inside her personal space. He was a head taller than her, smelling of sea salt and expensive paper. His gaze traveled from her face down to the torn lace of her bodice, then back up. Elizabeth stiffened, her eyes flashing with shame.
"The job is simple," Hugo whispered. "By day, you are my personal clerk. You will tidy my charts and pour my wine. And at night..."
He paused, enjoying the way her breath hitched.
"At night, you will be responsible for warming my bed."
"You... you despicable lecher!" Elizabeth screamed, her hand rising to slap him.
Hugo caught her wrist in mid-air with a grip like iron. "I think you misunderstand the physics of the sea, Elizabeth," he said, his voice entirely innocent. "The nights are freezing on the water, and the blankets are never enough. I simply require a human hearth, a warm body to ward off the chill. Nothing more, unless you find yourself inclined otherwise."
He pulled a gold coin from his purse and dangled it before her eyes. "I'll even pay you a wage. One gold doubloon for every night you keep the frost away. It's better than scrubbing toilets for free, wouldn't you agree?"
Elizabeth looked at the coin, then at the door where the smell of dried fish still lingered. Her pride was screaming, but her body was exhausted.
"Just... just warming the bed?" she asked, her voice small.
Hugo smiled, releasing her wrist. "On my word as a Navigator."